


of whispering lights and empty ice rinks

by blueh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anxiety, I call creative license to do whatever the fuck I want, M/M, Time Skips, Time Travel, Viktor spelled with a k, basically yuuri goes back in time and Viktor and Yuri P follow and everyone is Confused, beep beep here comes nauti with ANOTHER time travel fic, pinning, yuuri spelled with two uus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10066736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueh/pseuds/blueh
Summary: One would think that everything would calm down after Yuuri won the Onsen on Ice event. It was supposed to be his year; he was going to be training with his long time idol turned coach and he was back in Japan with his family. Everything was looking up for Katsuki Yuuri.That is, until a stranger that looks exactly like him, but older appears in the middle of the rink after a bright flash of light.Oh, right, because time travel is apparently a thing now.also known as: Yuuri, Yuri and Viktor go back in time and have to find each other again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [О шепчущих огнях и пустынных катках](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126742) by [Inuya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inuya/pseuds/Inuya)



> Hey guys! ♥( ´罒`*) 
> 
> This is another time travel fic with a story that's not quite like the others. The podium family still goes back in time, but they don't replace their past selves! They get to meet them instead. Going back in time won't affect future-yuuri's time line because it's alreay a fixed point in time if that makes sense? If you're confused, just look up "multiverse time travel theory" and that should help! 
> 
> I have completed this story, so expect an update once or twice a day. It's a pretty short story (about 10K words). 
> 
> Unbeta'd as always so there will definitely be mistakes. Hope you guys like it and if you do, don't forget kudos or comments!

There are very few places where time seemed to bend: parking lots with lights that flicker occasionally and cast shadows on the surrounding buildings, deserted airports from midnight to seven am and the quite mornings of empty ice rinks before the sun rose.

For Yuuri, skating in the morning was always worth it. He was not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, but the feeling of stepping onto the fresh ice as the sun filters through the windows and creates dancing lights around the entire area was _magical._ It was only at this time where he felt truly free, as if he and the ice were one and the same. Where his skates were not just _skates,_ but a connection of his body that he wields with such gracefulness that anyone would have their breath stolen straight from their lungs.

Viktor, Yuuri finds, also likes the quiet mornings of the ice rink.

It was different now. No longer was he skating small figure-eights around an empty ice rink, but instead he had a coach. Someone to teach him, to make sure he does his best. Someone absolutely convinced that he could compete. That he could _win._

It was safe to say that Yuuri did not understand Viktor.

It had been days since the Onsen on Ice even. Viktor’s training was harsh yet left warmth in Yuuri’s chest. It was hard work and took up most of his time, and sometimes Yuuri left with bloody toes and bruised ankles, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.  

He skates lazily in circles before launching into the same step sequence he’d been practicing since he was twelve. It was soothing, just him and the ice. Viktor would show up eventually—sometimes he was early, sometimes he was not—but for now, Yuuri cherished this time that he has to himself.

He twists and turns, spinning and practicing small jumps. He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of his skates gliding over the ice.

_This was nice._

Just as he was about to practice another small jump, something in his heart tugs painfully and for a moment, Yuuri stops. The pain seems to be getting stronger and stronger until suddenly—

Too much. _There was too much._

Yuuri collapses on his knees, his hands barely catching him before he lands face first into the ice. He wheezes, one hand fisting his shirt while the other braced his body against the ice.

Everything felt like it was on _fire._

He can’t breathe. He coughs. Once, twice—

The pain was gone.

Yuuri coughs again, blinking open his eyes that he didn’t realize he had closed. He feels weak, unstable. He looks around and a feeling of _out of place_ and _wrongness_ surrounds him. He can’t shake the feeling that _something_ was happening. Something big.

He stays there a few minutes, catching his breath. Briefly, he wonders if he should see a doctor, but pushes the thought to the back of his head. If it happens again, maybe. It wasn’t that important if it was just a one-time thing, right?

He finds the strength to push himself to his feel and shakily skates to the side of the rink. He reaches out and grasps the side, supporting his entire body. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing.

In. Out. In. Ou—

A door bangs open. “Yuuri!”

Yuuri blinks open his eyes, looking around. He spots Viktor at the entrance, looking disheveled. His shirt was rumpled and his hair was spayed across his face, some of it sticking to his sweaty forehead. He almost looked as if he were in pain. As soon as he spots Yuuri, he rushed over. “Are you okay?”

_Why did he sound so worried?_

“I think so…” Yuuri answers instead. He lessens his grip on the side and steps away. His legs still feel shaky and unbalanced, but at least he can stand without collapsing. He peers at Viktor from under the rims of his glasses. “What happened to you?” 

Viktor grimaced before trying to make himself look a bit more presentable. There’s a pause before he answers. “I was in a rush. I had to get to the rink.”

_Lie._

Even though he hadn’t known Viktor long, he knew that Viktor didn’t like to show when he was uncertain or worried. He preferred to keep any negative emotions bottled up and keep his persona up. Add the pause before he answers and Yuuri can tell that something was wrong. Seeing Viktor like this… it was worrying, to say the least. “Why?”

“I just had a… feeling. I don’t know.”

“A bad one?”

Viktor pauses to think before shaking his head. “No… but I thin—”

The loud bang of something crashing cuts him off. Yuuri’s head whips to the side, eyes wide as he stares at the ice. For there, in the middle of the rink, was a light so blinding (so _brilliantly_ bright) that Yuuri is forced to look away once again.

“W-what the—?” Viktor reacts before he gets the chance to, grabbing Yuuri and pulling him over the side of the rink and onto solid ground. Wind whips around them (Weren’t they inside? _What_ was happening?) as they crouch behind the safety of the wall, afraid and confused.

Something tightens in his chest. It wasn’t painful—not like before—but he _knows_ that something is happening. _Knows_ that something was changing.

The wind was getting louder and louder. It whips at his clothes, his hair. He can’t see, can’t hear, can’t _think._

And as suddenly as everything happens, it stops. 

Yuuri shares a wide-eyed look with Viktor, who was curled at his side. Maybe if he was paying more attention, he would register _just_ how close Viktor was, but for the time being all Yuuri could think about was _what_ just happened.

He’s about to speak (doesn’t know what to say but the silence is _deafening)_ until a groan interrupts him. It takes a moment to register that the sound didn’t come from Viktor because Viktor looked just as confused and frightened as he did (after all, how many times are you interrupted by bright lights and wind during an indoor practice?). He sees Viktor furrows his eyebrows and slowly shift his body to where he’s peering over the side of the rink.

Yuuri looks down at his hands, his mind still processing the events of the last few minutes (seconds? Hours? He didn’t know anymore). He doesn’t know _what_ happened. He doesn’t know _why_ he feels so _wrong._ Like something major was misplaced.

Almost like something was missing.

A gasp draws his mind back to the present. Yuuri glances up at Viktor only to see that the man wasn’t looking at him. His blue eyes were locked at a fixed point on the ice rink. He seemed—shocked? Astonished? Appalled? 

No, the Viktor Nikiforov was _surprised._

“Yuuri…” Viktor says. “I think we might have a visitor.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri didn’t know what to do.

“A visitor” didn’t cover the absurdity of the situation. After skating up to the prone body (were they alive? Were they unconscious? Why weren’t they _moving? How the hell did they get there?!)_ both Yuuri and Viktor drew back in surprise, not moving. Staring.

 Because, _apparently_ , it wasn’t enough to appear in the middle of the ice in a bright flash of light. No, this special visitor just had to have the same face as Yuuri. A bit older, with longer hair, but the resemblance was unmistakable. He even had the same skates on.

“Do you have a twin that you never told me about, Yuuri?” Viktor asks. Yuuri thinks that he’s trying to tease him, but all Yuuri could do was stare at the body and shake his head.

Silence consumes them again. The only sound that could be heard was the ragged breathing from the mysterious man with the same face as Yuuri.  Yuuri struggles to think. He doesn’t _understand._

“Well,” Viktor breaks the silence once again. “We can’t just leave him here on the ice. Help me?”

They each take a foot and drag the body to the exit, pulling him up over the bump and setting him down on the ground. Yuuri stares, at a loss for what to do. The feeling in his chest hasn’t gone away since the man appeared. The feeling of _wrongness_ is just getting worse and worse.

_Something is missing._

A thought erupts in his mind. He quickly expels the though before he could dwell on it any longer.

No. No. _Nope_. That’s impossible. _Time travel_ is impossible.

 _But what if it isn’t?_ A small voice in his head asks

 _Shut up_ , he tells it.

And now—

Now what? Wait until he wakes up? Question him? None of this made any _sense._

He feels Viktor place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and fights the urge to flinch away. “Yuuri, are you okay?”

“I’m—” how does he explain all the thoughts in his head right now? “I’m okay, I think. Just confused.”

Viktor hums in agreement before an easygoing smile breaks out on his face (how can he smile at a time like this?). “Well! This is quite an eventful morning. First the dreams, then the heart problems—I didn’t think I was that old— and now this mysterious person that appears in a ball of light! How exciting!”

Yuuri notices how Viktor doesn’t mention how the man looks exactly like him, but doesn’t comment. Instead, he focuses on the other parts. Like the heart problems. Did that mean that Viktor also was affected by that feeling earlier? “Your chest hurt too?”

Viktor glances at him and tilts his head. “Too?”

“I, uh, collapsed on the ice today.” Yuuri answers honestly.

Viktor hums again, tilting his head to the side. He glances at the man on the floor at their feet before looking at Yuuri again. “Does it hurt now?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “No. It just feels tight.”

A pensive look appears on Viktor’s face and Yuuri is about to ask him about it before he’s interrupted by the man on the floor shifting and groaning.

Yuuri meets Viktor’s eyes for a second, before focusing his attention on the mysterious man who was slowly pushing himself up in a sitting position.

The man stares at the floor, blinking. He was clearly groggy and not aware of his surroundings quite yet. He rubs his eyes underneath his glasses before glancing up, squinting at Viktor. “Viktor, what…?”

Even their voices sound the same. Yuuri gasps.

“What the—” the stranger’s head whips around and stares at him.

 _His eyes._ Those were his eyes.

It was at that moment that Katsuki Yuuri was convinced that he was staring at himself.

 

* * *

 

Conversation wasn’t easy to maintain or understand. Everything that came out of the stranger’s mouth— _Yuuri’s_ mouth—seems impossible. So far, Yuuri had confirmed that he is _also_ Katsuki Yuuri, thirty, retired and lives in Russia. He coaches at the rink in St. Petersburg (a rink that Viktor seemed to recognize, if his face was anything to go by).

 _Oh yeah_ , and apparently he was from the future.

Because time travel was a thing now.

The older-Yuuri seemed just as confused as they were. All he remembered was skating in the morning before practice and a bright light and _bam._ He woke up here. All other-Yuuri has on him was his phone (which apparently _worked,_ but he can’t call or use the internet. Almost as if it were in airplane mode), his clothes and a key to his (future) apartment in St. Petersburg.

All three of them sit in silence, mulling over the situation.

“What are we going to do now?” Viktor asks.

“I don’t know,” Older-Yuuri says and sighs. “I _need_ to get back. Everyone there is probably wondering where I am… Have they even noticed that I left? Maybe? I don’t actually know. It’s not like time travel is common in the future…”

“But _how_ do we get you back?” Yuuri questions. He’s still struggling to understand, but knows he has to help in _some way._ It was obvious that his older self was just as confused as they were.

Older-Yuuri just lets out a breathy laughed. “Well, if I knew that I’d be back already.”

They lapse into silence again. Yuuri filters through his brain trying to think of _any_ way to get him back. Trying to think if he could help at all.

He comes up with nothing.

Instead, he changes topic. It was no use thinking of it now—maybe something would come to him in the future (ha). “How is this going to affect us?”

Older-Yuuri just tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. He twists his hands in his lap and rubs the edge of his sweatshirt. “What do you mean?”

“Time-Travel,” Yuuri tries to elaborate. “Is it going to hurt you? Is it going to hurt _us_? Is it going to change our future?”

“Well,” Older –Yuuri sighs and props his face on his hands. Yuuri is struck with just how much _older_ he seems. Not in the way one would think—he didn’t have wrinkles or the old-man stench (he _was_ only thirty after all)—but in the way his eyes danced when he talked. The way he moved with so much more confidence. Like he _knows_ that he’s good enough.

Yuuri wonders what changed.

“I can’t say for sure. Obviously your future is going to be affected. The course of history has already been altered. As for how it’s going to affect my time…” older-Yuuri shrugs. “I don’t know if it even _will_ affect my time.”

Viktor groans from his place to the side. “This is so confusing.”

Yuuri silently agrees just as Older-Yuuri sends him an amused smile (he looked so at ease whenever he glances at Viktor) and doesn’t say anything.

“I could probably tell you what happens in my time-line,” older-Yuuri continues on. He still seems distracted. “There’s not guarantee that it will happen in this time-line. I’m going to slip up eventually, I can’t keep the future secret forever. Especially since I might be staying here a while. At least, until I figure out how to get home.”

That only brought up more questions to Yuuri’s mind. Where would this version of himself be staying? It wasn’t like he could waltz in and introduce _himself_ to his parents. It’s too confusing—not to mention _dangerous_ — to mention that apparently his older-self can time travel and happened to time travel right in the middle of Yuuko’s rink.

“My parents would freak out if they saw you.” Yuuri tells him.

“They would,” older-Yuuri agrees easily ( _of course_ he could. They’re the same person). “It might be best if I stay out of sight until I figure out how to get home.”

“So you’re staying, then?” Viktor asks and grins.

Older-Yuuri stares at him a bit too long (long enough for Yuuri to notice) before tearing his gaze away and focusing on the floor. He fiddles nervously with his phone. Spinning it in his hand just like Yuuri does before competitions. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.” 

Viktor positively _beams._ “Great! Then you need a name. There can’t be _three_ Yuuris.”

Older-Yuuri laughs and shakes his head. “Lets figure out where I’m staying first and them focus on that.”

“You could probably stay here,” Yuuri pauses to think for a second. “I’ll talk to Yuuko about it. I won’t let her know about the entire situation, of course. Since we have the rink to ourselves during the competitive season, no one will visit very often. It might be a little cold, but I’m sure it would be better than having to explain everything.”

Older-Yuuri smiles at him with such warmth and kindness that Yuuri was taken aback. Was the really him? Was this what he was like in the future? “That would probably be fore the best. Thank you.”

“Name time!” Viktor interrupts them, not having noticed their conversation. “What about OY?”

“OY?”

“Older Yuuri!”

“No!” Yuuri defends in place of his counterpart.

“Yuuri squared then!”

Older-Yuuri laughs while Yuuri’s face heats up in embarrassment. “We’re not calling him that!”

Viktor pouts. “Why not?”

“B-because—!” He tries to think of a reason, but his brain stalls on him.

“It’s alright,” Older-Yuuri shakes his head, interrupting both of them. “Just call me by my surname. Katsuki is different enough from Yuuri that it should be too confusing.”

Yuuri sighs in relief. He wasn’t sure if he could call his older self OY if he tried. Katsuki was a much better alternative. It saved him (both of them?) the embarrassment. Though, Yuuri wonders why Older-Yuuri—Katsuki, his brain reminds him—didn’t seem to be phased at all. Maybe it just came with experience and time?

Viktor is still pouting, but he agrees at Yuuri’s insistence. Eventually, he turns his attention to Katsuki. His eyes were bright and full of curiously and wonder. “Do we still know each other in the future?”

Katsuki gives him a soft smile (something about that smile tugs at Yuuri’s heart. He _knows_ that smile. He just can’t remember why). “Yes, Viktor, I still know you in the future.”

“Are we close?” Yuuri turns pink at the question and Viktor’s tone of voice. Just _what_ was he asking?

Katsuki doesn’t seem bothered at all and just laughs. “Yes, we’re close.”

Viktor gives him the brightest smile that Yuuri has seen.

 _Why do you care so much?_ He wants to ask him. _Why was it important that we know each other in the future?_

Yuuri sighs, resigning to the fact that he might never get an answer to his questions. Instead, he stands up and grabs his water bottle and takes a sip. 

“What’s with the ring?” He hears Viktor ask behind him.

“Its my engagement ring.”

Yuuri promptly spits out all his water and whips around. “ _What?”_

Katsuki is smiling at him as if he _knows (_ he probably does). Viktor doesn’t light up at that like Yuuri though he would. Instead he tilts his head to the side and asks more questions (Who? Do _I_ know them? Do _you_ know them yet?) but Katsuki ignores him and turns his attention to Yuuri. “Shouldn’t you be practicing?”

“I was,” Yuuri mutters, but takes to the ice anyways. He tries to stake, he really does, but there are too many thoughts swirling around his head. Too many worries, too many problems.

He feels a bit lost.

And all he can do is blame time travel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly can't write emotion w/ dialogue and its sUPER ANNOYING   
> honestly, hope you guys like this chapter! 
> 
> feel free to follow me on my yoi blog & ask questions: moorfoot.tumblr.com

Katsuki is an enigma to Yuuri.

He doesn’t talk about himself much. He doesn’t mention anything other than his age, his location ( _Why_ St. Petersburg? Isn’t there where Viktor lives?), and is occupation. Sometimes he says things—he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking half the time—before sighing and simply looking out the window of Ice Castle. If he or Viktor questions the man, he just gives them the _same_ smile every time.

Challenging, yet friendly. A “find out for yourself” type of smile.

He’s been in this time for a few days now—less than a week, but long enough to get to know him better. So far, everything they’ve tried to get him back in his own time has failed miserably. The internet isn’t helping at _all_ and since Katsuki doesn’t know how he got here in the first place, it’s hard to figure out how to send him back.

They would keep trying, of course, but it was safe to say that all three of them felt their chances—and hope—dwindling.

Because how do you fix something when you don’t even know the problem in the first place?

 

* * *

 

“No, no, no.” Viktor waves his hands in front of him and skates around Yuuri in circles with a calculated expression. Yuuri spots Katsuki in the corner, fiddling with his ring (was he _really_ engaged? To who? Why wouldn’t his older-self tell them?). He quickly turns his attention back to Viktor as the man continues to try and help him with some of the technical aspects of skating. “You have to _feel_ it. Make your body more fluid.”

Katsuki snorts from his place on the sidelines. When Yuuri and Viktor turn to look at him, he just shakes his head in some sort of fond exasperation. “I forgot how inexperienced in coaching you were,” he focuses his attention on Yuuri and suddenly Yuuri is aware of just how much _weight_ that gaze carries. “Arch your back more and lower your arms. That should make the transition easier.”

Yuuri nods but isn’t used to having more than one pair of eyes on him. Katsuki wasn’t _anything_ like Viktor. His double’s gaze is warm, but calculated. Picking him apart for his mistakes, yet it’s not malicious.

 _He mentions being a coach in his time_ , Yuuri remembers.

Viktor nods in agreement, apparently recognizing his own limitations as a coach. Yuuri thanks Katsuki and does what he says, finding it much easier to use his transition. His jump turned out even cleaner than before.

“Thanks,” He tells Katsuki who just hums in acknowledgement. “Are you even supposed to be helping, though? With this time travel business and all?”

 “Probably not.” Katsuki laughs. “In my defense, it’s not like there’s a book out there for this kind of thing.”

“You should write one,” Viktor tells him. “ _Time Travel for Dummies_.”

Katsuki’s eyes sparkle. “Maybe I should.”

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri doesn’t mean to. He really doesn’t.

Okay, _okay_. So it wasn’t _exactly_ an accident. He was in the rink alone for the next hour or so while Viktor and Katsuki went out to take Makkachin on a walk (they couldn’t keep Katsuki cramped up in an ice rink for the entire time. That would just be cruel) when he spotted _it_ on the bench next to the rink.

Katsuki’s phone.

Yuuri’s curiosity got the better of him. He _knew_ he shouldn’t pry; that would be rude. He could feel the temptation mixed with swirls of guilt in his gut.

_He shouldn’t._

But he does.

He picks up the phone, turning it in his hand and just _looking._ It was different than his; much more high tech and much larger. Yuuri turns it on it’s back and brushed his hands against Katsuki’s case.

It was exactly like Viktor’s, but blue.

_What did that mean?_

He doesn’t think to ponder on it for long, instead he turns it back so he could see the screen and presses the home button. When he sees the lock screen picture, he gasps.

It was a picture of him, Viktor and Yurio arms around each other surrounded on a snow-bridge. He doesn’t recognize the location (maybe Russia?) but he sees the tell-tail signs of them being cold. Big jackets, red ears. They are much older, not in competition shape, but they were _happy_.

So, _very_ happy. 

Yuuri could see in the way that the photo-Viktor looks at him. He could see it in the way that his older-self’s smile scrunched up his face. He could see in in Yurio’s eyes.

“I look happy,” A voice says from behind him, scaring him so badly that he dropped the phone. Yuuri places a hand on his heart to calm it down as he turns to face Viktor. “Yurio does too. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“You scared me!”

“Did I?” Viktor just grins at him. “Oops. Sorry.”

He’s not sorry at all and both of them know it.

“He said we were close,” Viktor continues on. “He didn’t mention anything about Yurio, though. I wonder how he fits in this picture.”

Yuuri wonders that too, but doesn’t comment. Instead he says, “A long can change in six years.”

Viktor hums in agreement. “I like this picture.”

Yuuri does too.

“Where’s Katsuki?” He fishes the phone off the ground and places it down for the time being, only for Viktor to snatch it up and stare at the screensaver for longer.

“He’s at the park. Said he wanted to say a bit longer.” Viktor fiddles with the phone. “This is in St. Petersburg.”

“Is it?” Yuuri takes the phone back and looks at the picture again.

“We have matching cases too,” Viktor says and his lips quirk into a grin. He fishes his phone out of his pocket to show off his pink FS outfit from last year before quickly putting it away. “Good taste. Why blue though?”

Yuuri wonders the same thing, but doesn’t comment. Instead, he hovers his finger over the fingerprint scanner. The temptation is overwhelming, but the guild is holding him. Even if this person was himself, he shouldn’t.

 …Should he?

“He said that if we wanted to know about the future, then we should figure it out ourselves,” Viktor says and grins because this is _not_ how Katsuki meant it and both of them know it. “We’re figuring it out ourselves, right?”

Maybe it’s because having someone from the future that knows _everything_ about you is what gets him. He knows nothing about Katsuki past the age of twenty-four. The rest of his life is a mystery. What if he knew just a little bit more…?

He blames it on Viktor and his lack of impulse control when he places his finger down.

Katsuki’s home screensaver is like his lock screensaver. It’s of the three of them, this time on a podium with medals around their necks. Gold, silver, bronze. All three were smiling with happy tears in their eyes.

Yuuri had never seen this expression on his face before.

(He looks proud)

(Very, very proud)

Hesitating, Yuuri clicks on the camera app. The most recent picture is one of Makkachin which isn’t be surprising to anyone. Beside him, Viktor coos at his dog. He scrolls through some more.

Makkachin, his morning coffee, some sights in St. Petersburg, an ice rink, selfies with Viktor or Yurio…

It isn’t very helpful.

It was only when they get to a video did Yuuri stops his furious swiping. He pauses, tilting his head to the side. The preview wasn’t much to go by but…

“Play it,” Viktor urges.

So he does.

The camera is shaky at first, as if it is being shifted. Suddenly, Viktor appears on the screen. He’s grinning, full of life and practically bouncing on his toes. Honestly, Yuuri doesn’t see much of a difference between future-Viktor and now- Viktor.

 They’re in the same ice rink that the pictures were taken in, but this time it was full of other people. If Yuuri squints, he sees Mila Babicheva, Georgi Popovich and Yakov Feltsman in the background, lounging on the other side of the rink.

“ _Hi!”_ the Viktor on-screen chirps. _“This is Yura’s Season Six Free Skate routine! Yura,_ davai _!”_

The camera shits to where Yuri Plisetsky is leaning again the side of the rink. He too is older, probably in his early twenties. His hair is longer, but pulled into a messy ponytail. His eyes are sharper, yet not as malicious. He’s grown taller but still looks as graceful and lithe as the Yurio that Yuuri saw a few weeks ago. Camera-Yurio catches sight of them videoing him and rolls his eyes before turning to Viktor and yelling, “ _God, shut up!_ ”

The person behind the camera laughs, shaking the video. It takes a second to realize that’s _him. He_ was the one videoing.

Well, technically Katsuki. Same thing.

“ _Viktor_ ,” camera-Katsuki says, his voice full of warmth. He sounds _fond_. “ _You’re embarrassing him_.”

“ _Shut up!”_

“ _Aww, Yura, it’s okay!”_ Camera-Viktor laughs and bounds over to Yurio’s side. He slings an arm around his shoulders and only laughs more when Yurio shoves him off. “ _No need to be shy!_ ”

“ _I hate you, you old fart_ ,” camera-Yurio tells him. Anyone could tell that he didn’t mean it.

“ _Yura_ ,” Yuuri’s own voice interrupts again. “ _Can you show us your routine_?”

Camera-Yurio just rolls his eyes and skates away. He’s in the center of the ice, shifting into a graceful starting position before—

“ _Aw, my phone is running low on battery. Maybe I should—”_

The video shuts off.

They stare at the screen for a second. Yuuri debates watching the video again, but for some reason he can’t lift his fingers. There is still no sign of Katsuki’s elusive husband ( _maybe he wasn’t as ice skating fan?_ Yuuri tries to convince himself) but something in Yuuri’s gut told him otherwise.

A feeling that he was planning to ignore.

“That was…” Viktor struggles to find the right word. “Anti-climatic.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees. They sit in silence for a few seconds, staring at the phone in Yuuri’s hand. They could probably continue to look through pictures but Yuuri’s thoughts are catching up to him. He sighs and puts the phone down.

There’s a thought in the back of his mind now, growing more and more convince after each passing day. Katsuki has mentioned he’s married, yet most of the pictures were of him and Viktor… What if…?

 _No._ That was impossible.

There was no way that he was married to Viktor Nikiforov.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need someone else to write a time travel fic with me like honest to god I NEED more time travel fics someone pls. pls. i will co-write with u (꒪▿꒪)
> 
> yoi blog: moorfoot.tumblr.com

Katsuki was skating when Yuuri arrived at the rink for his morning practice.

Yuuri had seen him skate before, but the way he moves was breathtaking. He doesn’t practice his jumps much— “My old man knees,” he’d said at one point—but that never took away from his performance. He glides over the ice as if he were born from it, as if it was part of him. When he was skating, all eyes were draw to him.

His skating reminded Yuuri of Viktor more than it remind him of himself.

As Katsuki launches into a passionate step sequence (he’s done the same one several times. Yuuri wonders _why_ this performance? What did it mean to him?), something in Yuuri’s chest tugs at the expression on his double’s face. While his skating was upbeat and quick, he doesn’t seem to have to emotional component to fit that.

He seems… lonely.

Yuuri wishes he knew how to help.

Eventually, Katsuki notices him and stops skating. He glides over to the side and gives a smile. “Sorry. I wasn’t taking up your practice time, was I?”

“No,” Yuuri tells him. “Viktor isn’t here yet. I got here early. We got my music for my Free Skate in last night so now we’re going to choreograph it.”

“Oh, good,” something in Katsuki’s eyes sparkle. He steps off the ice anyways and puts his rental skate guards on. He’s smiling, but it’s pained. His eyes seem a thousand miles away, lost in a sea of memories that Yuuri has yet to experience.

_He misses his own time,_ Yuuri realizes.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asks even though he already knows the answer. What else can he do? He racks his brain to offer some sort of comfort, but it seems it almost as hard to comfort himself as it is to comfort others.

Katsuki just gives him a smile ( _fake, so fake_ ). “I’m fine.”

Yuuri just raised an eyebrow and took a seat on the bench next to the rink. “It’s not easy to lie to yourself, y’know.”

“I figured,” Katsuki laughs but it still sounds empty. They lase into silence, Yuuri unsure of what to say. He fiddles with his skates a moment before Katsuki speak up again. “I wasn’t alone in my time.”

“What?”

“Before I woke up here,” he elaborates. “I was coaching. With Viktor. Yura was there too.”

Yuuri doesn’t miss how he says _Yura_ instead of _Yurio_. Not for the first time, he wonders _why._

“You’re close.” Yuuri knows this. He’s seen Katsuki’s phone. Has seen the pictures.

“We are,” Katsuki’s tone of voice is almost wistful as he takes a seat next to Yuuri. He stares at the ground and fiddles with this ring (something that he does when he’s nervous, Yuuri had come to realize). “I miss them.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri answers honestly. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Being ripped from something that you finally thought was a constant,” Katsuki continues, looking off to the side. Yuuri hears the entrance door slam shut and knows that Viktor is here now, too. Maybe he could help more than Yuuri could? He feels _useless_. “Being in St. Petersburg… With everyone… That’s the happiest I’ve ever been. Now it’s gone.” Katsuki signs and runs his hand over his face.

It takes a moment for Yuuri to realize that his older self is fighting back tears.

Yuuri has cried before. He knows this; everyone knows this. It’s not a secret. But to see himself break down? To _watch_ it happen? To be unable to _help_ , unable to fix the problem?

Yuuri doesn’t know what to do.

“Sorry, sorry,” Katsuki mutters and furious scrubs his face with his hands. “It’s been a while since I’ve been like this.”

“Do you want us to leave?” A voice says from behind them and Yuuri doesn’t have to turn around to know its Viktor.

“No, don’t.” Katsuki says. “I’m fine. At least, I will be. Eventually. I’m used to things not working out in the end.”

Yuuri flinches because, yeah, he understands that too.

Viktor places his hand under his chin, stroking it thoughtfully. “You said you weren’t alone when you got here, right?”

“How long were you listening to our conversation?” Yuuri asks.

Katsuki turns to Viktor before Yuuri’s coach can respond. “I wasn’t alone when I blacked out. Why?”

“Is there a chance they came back with you, but appeared in a different rink?”

Oh.

_Oh._

Yuuri didn’t consider it—could that really be possible? From the look on Katsuki’s face, he doesn’t know either.

But there was _hope_.

Hope that reflects in his own eyes.

“You don’t think…?” Katsuki trails off at the end, unsure.

“It wouldn’t make much sense for just you to come back, wouldn’t it?” Viktor is smiling. _Thank god_ for Viktor’s ability to work with people. “Have you ever considered the possibility that they came back in time with you?”

“Oh _god_ , I hadn’t—” Katsuki cuts himself off and shakes his head. He’s smiling—not the fake ones that he gave Yuuri a while but but a genuine, _happy_ smile. “Where would they be?”

“What if they’re home?”

_Home._

“Home…?” It takes a moment for the light to come back in Katsuki’s expression, but when it does, it’s _blinding_. “St. Petersburg.”

“Yes,” Viktor grins. “You know who else is in St. Petersburg right now?”

Yuuri can feel the excitement in the room slowly growing. He looks from Viktor to Katsuki who both have a new kind of light shining in their eyes. Katsuki is more animated than Yuuri had ever seen him, practically buzzing from where he sat on the bench.

Yuuri can feel it getting to him too. A warm fuzzy feeling erupts and he smiles at their enthusiasm. “Yurio!”

“Exactly!” Viktor laughs. He takes out his phone and waves it at them. “And you know who has Yurio’s number?”

Katsuki jumps up from his spot and crowds around Viktor in excitement. His eyes are shining with renewed hope. “What are you going to say?” Suddenly, he grows quiet, his body slumping. His voice is barely above a whisper. “What if they’re not there?”

“Then we’ll keep looking,” Viktor promises. “But it’s a good place to start, right?”

Katsuki stares at him for a second, emotionless. He sighs and shakes his head. “How to do always know what to say?”

“Practice,” Viktor grins. “And my charm and good looks don’t hurt either.”

“What charm?” Katsuki fires back.

Yuuri can’t help feeling a little left out of the conversation. There’s not doubt that Katsuki’s relationship is much stronger than his own. Yuuri doesn’t know just _how_ close they are yet, but he seems at ease.

The thought that Yuuri has been repressing for the last day emerges in his brain again.

_Married…_

Could they really be _that_ close?

“Done!” Viktor chirps.

“What does it say?” Yuuri tries to peer over Viktor’s shoulder, but Viktor holds the phone away from him with a teasing grin. Katsuki snatches the phone from him and before Viktor realizes what happened, Katsuki had already darted away from them, opening up the messaging app.

“ _Hey Yurio! I know this sounds weird but are there two people that might look a lot like us but much older and maybe (possibly) something about time travel being involved?_ ” Katsuki recites and raises an eyebrow. “Well, that leaves no room for interpretation.”

Viktor snatches the phone back and grins at him before glancing down. “Oh, he’s typing.”

Yuuri can see Katsuki tense up. He knows how much this means to him, knows that in the next few moments they could solve another piece of the mystery or leave empty handed.

He hopes, for Katsuki’s sake, that the search will be over.

“He says,” Viktor squints at the phone for a moment. “ _’what the actual fuck_ ’ with no punctuation. I taught him better than that.”

A sinking feeling starts in Yuuri’s gut. _They weren’t there_ …

“Oh, wait.” Viktor announces. “He’s typing again. Oh, never mind. He stopped. I guess—” the shrill sound of a ringtone interrupts whatever he was about to say. Viktor glances at his hand in surprise. “It’s Yurio.”

“Answer it,” Yuuri insists.

Viktor does and puts it on speaker. For a second, everything is quiet.

_Waiting._

“ _Viktor?”_ Yurio’s voice echoes through the device. It’s lacking the malice that Yuuri remembers, lacking any emotion at all.

“Here!” Viktor chirps.

“ _Okay, good. I can’t tell if you were just being dumb like always but I’ve had a weird few weeks and I need you to explain_ exactly _what you meant by that text._ ”

“Uhh—” Viktor glances at both of them. Katsuki just shrugs.

How were the supposed to explain this without sounding impossible?

_“Oh, is that Yuuri? Hi Yuuri!”_ A voice says from the other end. Yuuri balks for a second because that sounds suspiciously like—

There is shouting in the background sounds of a scuffle.

_“Shut the fuck up!”_ Another voice says, also eerily familiar yet not the same.

_“Give me the phone, old man! I was talking!”_ Yurio’s voice is at the phone again and someone sighs.

There’s a laugh off to the side and Yuuri turns, only to see Katsuki with a hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes. Wordlessly, Viktor hands him over the phone with a smile. A silent gesture.

Just like that, Yuuri _understands_.

Katsuki smiles at him and takes it. “Hi Viktor, hi Yura.”

_“Is that my Yuuri?”_ Viktor’s voice is the the background.  Yuuri can only assume he’s taken over the phone again. _“Yuuri! We’ve missed you! Mostly me but Yura secretly misses you too—”_

_“Katsudon! What the_ fuck _?”_ The older Yurio interrupts _. “First you just fucking disappear, then we wake up in this god damn rink six years the the past—”_

_“Yakov is here and he still has hair!”_

_“—Then I have to put up with this fuckwit of a coach for the past few weeks being all mopey and lonely—”_

_“Yeah? We’ll I’ve had to put up with both of you when I’m supposed to be training—”_ Younger-Yurio’s voice tries to interrupt but he’s interrupted yet again.

_“I missed you!”_

_“—I’m not done complaining, Viktor_. Shut up _. Anyways, he tried to skate and almost broke his hip because he’s too old for this shit but he wanted to show off and we’re tried every goddamn thing to get back in our time and so far nothing has worked. You disappeared first and didn’t contact us. This is your fault.”_

“I missed you too, Yura.” Katsuki says but he’s amused. He wipes away the tears. “And Viktor, of course.”

For a moment, Yuuri is struck with just how _familiar_ they were with one another. The only good moment that Yuuri has had with Yurio is when the younger helped him with his Quad Salchow. Even then, it was more skating than conversation.

He doesn’t understand Yurio.

But, apparently, his older self did.

“Besides,” Katsuki continues and he’s smiling now. _Truly_ smiling. “Viktor is the one who likes to surprise people. What’s more surprising than time travel?”

There is silence on the other end.

_“You’re right,”_ Older-Yurio’s voice comes through after a moment. _“This is all Viktor’s fault.”_

Yuuri snorts.

“This isn’t my fault.” Viktor says.

There’s a pause then, _“Fuck, there’s two of them.”_

Yuuri wasn’t sure which Yuri said that. Maybe both.

_“There are four Yuuri’s too!”_ Older Viktor says.

“They’ve been calling me Katsuki for now,” Katsuki answers.

_“Does that mean I can change my name too?”_ Older Viktor asks. Yuuri can’t place the tone of his voice. Playful? Teasing? _“Great! Everyone here can call me Ice Dadd—”_

“Viktor, if you finish that sentence, I won’t speak to you for a month,” Katsuki says and older-Viktor immediately falls silent. Yuuri is pretty sure he hears snickering in the background. Yuuri doesn’t even want to _think_ about what he was going to say. Doesn’t want to know the context at all.

“Younger Russian Yuri can stay Yurio because that’s what my younger self and Viktor’s younger self are calling him right now.” Katsuki says and theres no room in his voice for argument.  “Older Russian Yuri, you’re going to stay as Yura. My younger self is going to be Yuuri. Viktor—my Viktor, sorry—you can be known as Vitya. Younger Viktor, you can stay Viktor. Everyone good?”

_“Was that even English?”_ Yui—wait, Yura—complains.

“Do you want me to repeat it in Russian?” Katsuki asks, but there’s a teasing edge to his voice.

Does he speak Russian? Yuuri supposed that made sense, since he lived in Russia.

_“Fuck off,”_ was the response.

_“Great!”_ Vitya says and his voice is excited _. “Now that we’ve sorted that out, I’m flying over to see Yuu—sorry, Katsuki right now.”_

_“With what passport?”_ Yura snorts.

_“I’ll use my younger self’s passport!”_

_“He’s in Japan too, dumbass!”_

_“You are_ denying _me my right to see my hus—”_

“Vik— Vitya,” Katsuki says. He smiles, but drums his fingers along the side of the phone. He seems to be the voice of reason between the three. “Neither of us can travel. We’re stuck for a while.”

Yuuri doesn’t know if it’s the way he says it or the way the the fire that’s in his eyes dims, but he can tell Katsuki _aches_ to see them.

Viktor hums and stands up to stretch. “I might know a guy that could help?”

_“I do?”_ Yuuri can almost see that head tilt that Viktor (Vitya?) does when he’s confused. _“Oh. OH. Yeah, I do.”_

“Do I want to know?” Katsuki laughs.

_“No,”_ Vitya answers.

At least he was honest.

“He can make some documents, but it will take time.” Viktor tells them. Yuuri watches as Katsuki slumps in his seat, fiddling with his ring yet again. “For now, it would be best to stay where we are and meet somewhere. Then we can figure this situation out in person.”

There’s a groan on the other end before Yura’s voice comes over the speaker. _“I’m supposed to be fucking training but_ no _I have to be send back in time because why not? Fuck this.”_

“Language,” Katsuki says, but he doesn’t really seem to be paying attention to the conversation anymore.

_“Fuck you.”_

He’s playing with his ring, hands in his lap. He seems…far away. Distant.

Yuuri wonders what’s going on in his head.

 “We should have everything by November, maybe earlier. I don’t know. I’ve never tried anything like this before.” Viktor laughs. “That’s around the Rostelecom Cup, right? We can meet up there!”

_“We don’t know our assignments yet, idiot.”_ Yurio says with a huff. _“What if neither of us are assigned to that?”_

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Viktor says and grins.

_“That is the dumbest phrase I’ve—”_

“I have a feeling that we don’t have to worry about your assignments.” Katsuki signs and his hands flop lifelessly in his lap. Yuuri frowns and looks at him. He seems much different now, much more quiet. His stare is bearing a hole in the ground from where he was sitting. He swings his legs around and sighs.

He must of thought of _something._ Something big to make the change so instantaneous.

They talk for a while longer, arguing over logistics (logistics in time travel? Ha). They chat about meeting soon, promises and words that flew over Yuuri’s head. They end the call with a promise to call again soon and get the three from the future each a phone of their own so they can contact each other. Viktor takes the phone and puts it back in his pocket before clapping.

“Wow!” Viktor grins at them. “My future self is there too! And Yurio’s! So cool!”

“Yeah,” Katsuki echoes. He’s still not looking at them. “Very cool.”

Viktor frowns, obviously picking up on the less than enthusiastic tone. He brushes off his pants before waving and saunters off, presumably to find water. Although, Yuuri is never sure with that man. Viktor is confusing.

_Almost_ as confusing a certain time traveler that happened to be sitting right next to him.

He knows, that if he was in the same position (was he?), he wouldn’t want to talk. He knows that he’d want to keep it bottled up and let off steam when nobody was looking. Knows that he wouldn’t want anyone to see him in such a state.

So Yuuri doesn’t ask. Just sits there.

_Okay_ , maybe he’s staring a bit.

Katsuki notices, of course. He always does. Yuuri can tell from the way he shifts away, his eyes still trained to the ground. His mind seems as if a war were raging inside. Yuuri understands that those battles can be the deadliest.

The one thing Yuuri _doesn’t_ understand is how someone so _similar_ can be so _different_ at the same time.

It’s Katsuki who speaks first.

 “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that they’re with me—more than you can imagine but—” Katsuki stops and breathes in to calm himself. “A few months is a long time.”

_Oh._

“To be so close,” he continues on, leaning on his hands. “Yet so far. For the longest time, I thought I would be content by myself. I didn’t have to rely on anyone and they didn’t have to rely on me. I closed myself off so I wouldn’t get hurt.” that was true, Yuuri still felt the same way. “That changed. For the past six years, I’ve worked hard. I’m still getting over it— I have a long way to go— but I don’t regret it.” Katsuki smiles at him. “When I open up, they meet me where I am. I’m not alone. I don’t have to be.”

_What happened to me?_ Yuuri wants to ask, but doesn’t.

“So even if it means a bit of hurt and even if I’m alone for a while,” Katsuki says. “I’ll wait for them too.”

_Have they really changed me in such a way?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so if y'all want this to be a chapter or two longer, please give me ideas.   
> This story is done--I have everything written out however the interactions between the three (six?) are minimal. Also the more interaction ideas u guys give me, the more material I have to work with and possibly another chapter so yo holla guys, give me ideas. Dialog works best but I can go off of p much anything. (ㅅ´ ˘ `)
> 
> ask questions/follow me on my yoi blog: moorfoot.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

 Choreographing a routine took a lot of work and time.

Most of the time is spent off the ice, unfortunately. So for the last few days, Viktor and Yuuri had been sitting around on the rink-side benches and refining their ideas on Yuuri’s FS. It takes longer than it should have, but the idea is beautiful.

Beautiful, but oddly familiar.

Yuuri doesn’t know _why_ until one afternoon after he finishes practicing. He and Viktor are packing up for the day, ready to go home and lounge around in the hot springs. Yuuri already feels the sores on his feet from where his skates were rubbing and he doesn’t even _want_ to think about how bad they’re going to look in a few days.

Yuuri finishes shoving his skates in his bag before he spots Katsuki taking the ice. There’s a pause for a moment. Yuuri almost holds his breath and then Katsuki _skates._

His moves were fluid, his posture perfect. Most importantly, there was a smile on his face.

Not that fake _“I’ll be okay”_ smiles or the _“I know something you don’t”_ but a genuine, happy smile. His eyes are closed, but he doesn’t seem to see where he’s going as he launches into the most breathtaking step sequence that Yuuri has every seen.

 _Familiar._ So familiar.

It was like a dream. Where you put an idea down and _suddenly_ that idea comes to life. Yuuri doesn’t need to hear the music to _know_ what program that was. Every move that Katsuki makes, ever second that he glides over the ice, an orchestra fills his ears. Katsuki doesn’t skate to music, he _makes_ the music.

Is this what Viktor saw in him? Is this why Viktor came to coach him?

It was hard to believe that the man out on the ice _was_ him.

_Just how far did he go? What does his future hold?_

Viktor appears at his side moments later. He stares at Katuski as the man transitions into a spin and suddenly stops. It startles Katsuki and he almost slips before he skates over to the side of the rink. “So that’s what you’ve been skating.”

“The Free Skate program that you’re choreographing?” Katsuki laughs. “I was. That program means a lot to me.”

That program. _Yuri on Ice._ The program that he based off of his skating career. Of his feelings when Viktor started to teach him. His joy at having his idol _here_ and just for him. His passion for skating. His _love_.

Yuuri glances at Katsuki’s ring.

“I see,” Viktor says and for the first time, Yuuri thinks he might too.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri was getting more comfortable around Viktor.

He hadn’t noticed at first—it was only around the time when he accidently touched the top of his coach’s head (it looked soft! And shiny!) that he _really_ understands that they weren’t just coach and student anymore.

_Friends._

Katsuki (who had been on the other side of the rink at the time) simply cracked up when he saw the event take place. When questioned, simply he grins, taps his own head and walks off, leaving them more confused than when they started.

Yuuri curls up in his bed that night, clutching one of his pillows. He thinks about Katsuki and his future (it was only his future if that’s how he wanted it to be), thinks about Viktor, thinks about everything that has happened to him these last few weeks.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

The realization isn’t sudden, like what people would expect. Like _he_ would expect from himself.

It’s more of a _‘holy shit, I’m married to Viktor Nikiforov’_.

Then he remembers the way that Viktor hugs him when he gets a jump right, the way Viktor looks at him when he thinks Yuuri isn’t looking, the way they are so much closer than any other coach/student relationship should go. He thinks of the way that Viktor does anything he asks. He thinks of his own warm, fuzzy feelings that settle in his chest whenever Viktor glances his way.

And, yeah, he’s starting to believe it.

 

* * *

  

 _“Vitya made an Instagram account,”_ Yurio’s voice was a constant. It seemed like once a day they receive a call from him and the others from the future. It was one of the few ways they could stay in contact besides late-night skype calls and DMing on instagram. Yuuri was staring to understand Yurio a bit better, (with the help of Katsuki) and it shed a whole new light on his character.

Yuri Plisetsky was not a horrible person, no matter how hard he tried to make it seem that way.

“Oh really?” Katsuki laughs. “Does he want me to follow him?”

 _“I don’t fucking know,”_ Yurio grumbles and Yuuri stifles a laugh. Never has the boy sounded so _defeated. “He keeps calling it a finsta. I don’t know what it_ means _and no one will explain it to me.”_

Katsuki burst out in pearls of laugher, clutching at his side. Yuuri can old guess that he knows _exactly_ what it means. “Don’t worry about it. Future thing. You’ll understand eventually.”

 _“All he’s doing is posting dumb shit and pictures he found off of google of the exact same car_ ,” Yurio apparently isn’t done ranting. _“It’s pink! And a convertible! Who_ does _that?!”_

Yuuri raises an eyebrow when Katsuki laughs even harder.  

            “Back in out own time, he has a pink Eldorado Cadillac.” Katuski explains to both of them after he calms down. “Yakov gave it to him, I think. He probably misses it.”

“He has… a pink convertible?” Yuuri almost doesn’t believe it for a second but Katsuki nods gravely.

“He’s very proud of it. I think it’s extra.”

There’s shuffling on the phone before Vitya’s voice booms across the phone, _“It’s vintage!”_

_“Quit taking the phone, asshole!”_

“You drive it everywhere,” Katsuki says and laughs. “It draws a lot of attention.”

_“Chris likes it!”_

“Yes,” Katsuki says. “But Chris is just as extra as you are. Don’t bring up Phichit either—we both know how that’s going to go down.”

It sounds like they’ve had this argument before and Yuuri honestly isn’t surprised. He thinks its nice, feeling himself getting lost in the familiarity of it all. As they playfully bicker back and forth (with Yurio interrupting every once in a while), Yuuri can’t help but be jealous (is it weird to be jealous of yourself?).

For a moment, he’s struck with a thought.

_I wish this was me._

 

* * *

 

 

Katsuki knew the future.

Sometimes Yuuri forgets when he’s practicing. Katsuki’s secret smiles and random laughs were a part of their daily routine now. He forgets that most of the time, those hold a meaning. Forgets that every time Katsuki says something, it might not mean much of anything _now_ , but in the future it would be understandable.

Katsuki doesn’t go to the The Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship with them. It was too dangerous. Too much press, too many people and not enough time for a proper disguise. Katsuki doesn’t seem to mind, though and wishes him good luck. Yuuri doesn’t think much of it until later.

So when he comes back with a gold metal in hand and a bruised nose, Katsuki just smiles and says _congratulations._

And suddenly Yuuri is reminded again _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a finsta is a 'fate insta'. It's usually like a private account to post dumb things to. The saying didn't appear/get popular until late 2015-2016. This is about mid-2015, so the term wouldn't be popular yet. 
> 
> Also the pink car is in reference to official art that was released a while ago...... link-o: http://68.media.tumblr.com/4935b7a5bcaf8ff31037a7d84117f064/tumblr_inline_ok0ype5Kth1rvolz4_500.jpg
> 
> feel free to follow me on my yoi blog:moorfoot.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

The Cup of China rolls around before Yuuri knows it.

They received Katsuki’s passport a few days earlier, meaning that he was going to come to the event for moral support (does it count as moral support if it’s yourself cheering you on?). Unfortunately, they were still working on Yura’s and Vitya’s, so they couldn’t meet up yet. Yuuri knows how disappointed the two of them are (“ _Soon_ ,” Katsuki promises)—he’s overheard the skype conversations going on between the three of them.

When they finally exit the plane in Beijing, Katsuki is practically buzzing in excitement and Yuuri hasn’t the slightest clue why.

When he asks, all he gets in response is, “This place hold a lot of good memories.”

Yuuri doesn’t know if he’s talking about the competition or the city, but figures he wouldn’t get an answer anyways. He simply ads it to his mental list of “things future-me does that doesn’t make sense” and leaves it at that. He’d understand eventually.

Katsuki disappears once they get to their hotel. Presumably, he went up to his room to avoid being seen or questioned by anyone. Yuuri doesn’t know exactly when he leaves—Katsuki has a unique ability to blend in with the crowd more than Yuuri ever could. So when Yuuri looks around for his double and doesn’t see him, he’s not surprised.

Yakov is one of the first people Yuuri sees after pushing past all the reporters in the hotel lobby. The man is gruff, sharp and exactly like Katsuki and Viktor described him as (he’s also _staring_ at Yuuri). He’s incredibly intimidating and Yuuri is very content with sitting to the side and waiting until the encounter was over. Georgi was at his side, wearing sweats with his bag slung over his shoulder.  

Viktor just grins, waves at both of them and invites them to dinner.

Yakov takes his eyes off of Yuuri long enough to scowl at Viktor. He doesn’t accept the dinner invitation (which wasn’t surprising, he seems pretty bitter about Viktor coming to coach Yuuri) but he does pause and take a moment to to say, “Your older self is driving me _insane.”_

Viktor laughs it off. “Is he?”

It was at that moment that Yuuri notices that Georgi is staring at him as well. Very, very blatantly staring and it was starting to make Yuuri very, very uncomfortable.

Yuuri wonders why. Did he have something on his face? Where his glasses skewed? Did the futures say anything about him? Was it embarrassing? How much of Yuuri’s life did he know?

“He talks about you a lot,” Georgi says when he catches Yuuri’s eye. “Vitya, I mean. Yura does too, I guess.”

He doesn’t elaborate any more than that and Yuuri can only wonder what the conversations in St. Petersburg were like.

Luckily, Georgi is dragged off by his coach before Yuuri has the change to say something and make the entire situation worse. He breathes a sigh of relief, happy that the entire encounter was over. Viktor doesn’t seem to notices at all and proceeds to drag him off.

He goes out to dinner with Viktor and Coach Celestino later that night (The only warning he recives from Katsuki before they left is “Make sure you watch how much Viktor drinks.” Which was not only _very_ unhelpful, but a little worrying) and invites Phichit, Leo and Guang Hong. The restaurant is nice and the food is fine, but Yuuri didn’t have the stomach for it all.

Katsuki’s warning makes a _lot_ more sense when he has a very drunk Viktor hanging off of him with _very_ little clothes on.

Nothing has _ever_ embarrassed him more than that dinner.

After Viktor starts to strip, the night is pretty much over. It takes a little bit to drag Viktor out of the restaurant, but Katsuki meets up with him halfway through his trek back to the hotel (and he was grinning, the traitor. He _knew_ ) and helps him out. Together, they get everything back in order, with Viktor dozing in his bed for the night.

“That was horrible,” Yuuri tells him. Katsuki just laughs. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Ah,” Katsuki says and there’s a gleam in his eyes. “You haven’t seen the pictures yet.”

“What?”

“Soon,” Katsuki promises. He looks like he’s fighting back a laugh. “Sixteen flutes of champagne makes for a very interesting night.”

_“What?!”_

Katsuki is off to his room, shutting his door before Yuuri can drag his ass back out here and question what _exactly_ that meant. Yuuri silently vows that he won’t drink champagne in the near future, if only to prevent a catastrophic future-event from taking place.

(What Yuuri _doesn’t_ know at the time is that the event already happened)

(Katsuki is right; sixteen flutes of champagne _does_ make for an interesting night)

 

* * *

 

 

The first part of the competition goes well.

Very, _very_ well.

So well that Yuuri is left in a state of shock, numbly accepting the compliments that he receives without much thought. Viktor is just as excited, showering him in so much praise that Yuuri feels like he’s melting on the spot.

But when he sees Katsuki, all his older self does is hug him and say, “Stay out of your own head.” 

It sounds more like a warning more than a congratulation.

 

* * *

 

 

It _was_ a warning.

Yuuri realizes that now, with tears in his eyes. The pressure is too much, too much, _too muc—_

He’s cracking. Breaking.

He doesn’t know how he’s still on his feet.

Yuuri doesn’t ever think he’s going to forget breaking down in a parking lot below the stadium just minutes before he’s going to preform. He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to forget Viktor’s words— “If you fail, I will take responsibility as your coach.”

Suddenly the future seems absolutely _impossible_.

There was no happy ending.

So he cries. He cries and sobs and Viktor doesn’t know what to do.

Yuuri should blame him, it was his fault after all. Skater’s hearts are make of glass and he _broke_ one. Shouldn’t he pick up the pieces?            

But no, Viktor just stood there like an idiot. His expression was dumbfounded.

“Just be who you are!” Yuuri shouts at him and Viktor seems even more take aback.

Labels didn’t matter now. Friends? Yes. More than that? Definitely. Yuuri didn’t _want_ to know the future. He was going to make his own path. He was going to do what _he_ wanted.

“Believe in me more than I believe in myself!”

_I need someone to support me,_ he thinks, _I can’t do this alone any more._

Katsuki’s words echo in his mind. _They meet me where I am._

So when Yuuri opens up, Viktor is right there. 

 

* * *

 

 

His Free Skate suddenly has much more _meaning_ when he skates it.

Yuuri understands why Katsuki loves it so much. Loves the memories that come with it. Yuuri can’t help but hope this is how it stays for him too.

  _It means a lot to me,_ is what he said.

It means a lot to Yuuri too.

So he tries extra hard. He pushes his body to the limit. Sometimes he stumbles, but he gets right back up. And at the end—

At the end he adds something just for Viktor.

As his song ends and he transitions into his ending pose, Yuuri is shot. He feels as if he’s been awake for so long and is running on fumes but he’s _happy._ He turns, spotting Viktor running for him and his feet _move._

It was magical.

_He meets me where I am._

The crowd is going wild as they met and embrace. _A kiss that would be remembered forever_ , the announcers were saying. Yuuri pays them no mind because right now, just for this moment, it was just him and Viktor.

It’s nice.

This is nice.

When they ( _finally_ ) make it off the ice, Katsuki (hidden under layers of clothing and make up) is beaming.

He _knows._

“Vitya is happy too.” Katsuki says and even Yuuri can hear the joy in his voice. “He’s been texting me about it non-stop. Congratulations.”

Viktor’s arm is slung around his shoulder and Yuuri melts into the warmth. The familiarity. “Thank you.”

He takes the silver medal with a smile. Brilliantly bright and incredibly _happy_.

He’s found something even better than a gold metal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im too tired for a chapter note right now just let me sleep


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter! ( ´罒`*)  
> it's still so funny to me that my last time travel fic (the gentle light that strays and follows) was recommended as an angst for because it was /not supposed to be angsty/.

Katsuki is searching.

Yuuri knows exact _who_ he was searching for, but so far none of them have been spotted. The rink hallways seemed empty (almost eerie) and stretched for _miles_. None of the other skaters were lost in the labyrinth.

Yuuri is about the suggest that they head back to the hotel (the competition wasn’t for a few days, after all), but the sound of footsteps makes his mouth clamp shut.

Pound, pound, poun—

Yuuri turns around just in time to see Katsuki stumbling to the ground, courtesy of a well-timed kick to the back. No longer was the older man standing at his side, but instead Yuri Plisetsky stood, looking tall and smug.

Yuuri squints for a moment, taking in the longer hair and more defined features. This wasn’t Yurio.

_Yura._

Katsuki notices it immediately after he’s picked himself back up because he practically launches himself at the man in spite of Yura’s protests.

“Don’t you dare cry on me, Katsudon.” Yura says, but it’s lacking bite. If Yuuri looks close enough, he can see Yura hugging Katsuki back.

Katsuki wipes away the tears in his eyes. “I’m happy.”

Something in Yura’s posture shifts. It’s softer, more opening. “I know.”

 _I am too_ is left unsaid.

“However,” Yura says and just like that the moment is ruined. He lightly shoves Katsuki off and Katsuki stumbles a bit, but laughs all the time. Yura marches forward and pokes Katsuki in the chest repeatedly. “You _owe_ me. I’ve had to deal with fucking mopey Viktor—” He glances at Viktor and rolls his eyes. “Vitya— for _months_! I never want to see him again. It was disgusting.”

“Where is Viktor?” Katsuki asks and his eyes sparkle.

“I don’t fucking know. Probably lost knowing that idiot.” Yura huffs. “He was looking for you.”

Katsuki laughs and shakes his head. Apparently Viktor getting lost in the future is a common occurrence.

Yura glances over at Yuuri. His gaze is calculating, dangerous. He’s nothing like Yurio. Yuuri isn’t exactly sure how the deal with him. “Your hair is shorter.”

“Thanks…?” Yuuri says for lack of better response.

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“Oh.”

Katsuki elbows him in the side, but the skater ignores it. Instead, he focuses on Viktor and simply raises an eyebrow. “You look just as dumb as always.”

“Glad to see your attitude hasn’t improved, Yura.” Viktor snarks back and grins. At least he seemed to be having fun.

“Don’t fix what’s not broken,” Yura replies back easily. He takes Katsuki’s hand and drags him away. “We’re going to go find his damn husband. Later.”

Katsuki only gives them a ‘what can you do?’ expression and a wave before he’s dragged off. Both strike up a conversation (was is in _Russian_?) as they trot away. Yuuri watches them disappear for a moment, a little shocked. Mostly confused.

“Do you want to head back to the hotel?” Viktor asks.

“Please,” Yuuri says and Vikor grins before offering a hand to hold.

Yuuri takes it without hesitation.

They walk down the empty halls for a while, content in each other’s company. Yuuri thinks back to how he was a few months ago, right before Katsuki came. He couldn’t even talk to Viktor without stuttering and blushing, yet now he was holding hands?

With _the_ Viktor Nikiforov?

It was unimaginable.

Yuuri is so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize that Viktor has stopped until he feels a tug on his arm. He glances down at their intertwined hands before looking up in confusion. Why had they stopped?

“Yuuri…?” The voice makes Yuuri balk and turn around.

 _Familiar_ , yet different.

That was becoming a common saying for the last few months.

For there, standing a little more than ten feet away, was an older Viktor Nikiforov—Vitya.

“Oh,” Vitya says when he sees Yuuri’s face. “You’re not my Yuuri.”

Viktor squeezes his hand in comfort, but Yuuri’s mind was already blank. Vitya didn’t look much different than Viktor—he was a bit paler, not as fit and his hair seemed a little more lifeless, but he still had the same kindness in his eyes. He still stood with such confidence and grace that anyone looking at him would stop and stare. 

Yuuri glances at his hand and sure enough, a gold ring glitters in the rink’s light.

Yuuri, for lack of better words, blurts the first thing that comes to his mind. “Do you really own a pink convertible?”

Vitya seems stunned for a second before pulling an easygoing smile on his face and walking over. “Of course! I love my car. Yuuri—my Yuuri, not you. It’s a bit weird to call him Katsuki—gripes about it all the time, but he secretly loves it as well.”

“Huh.”

“Anyways,” Vitya spots their intertwined hands and his smile only grows. “Have you seen where my Yuu—Katsuki went?”

“He was just here,” Viktor answers. “Yura showed up and dragged him off.”

Vitya signs and runs a hand through his hair. “Of course. He’s always doing—”

“Old man!”

All three of them turn just in time to see Yura, Yurio and Katsuki ( _Yu(u)ri cubed_ , Viktor whispers and Yuuri has to hold back a giggle) approaching. The moment Vitya sees Katsuki, they’re both off.

_“Viktor!”_

_“Yuuri!”_

They meet at the middle, the force sending them both sprawling. They’re laughing, but tears are gathering and leaking. Vitya pecks Katsuki’s face over and over and over— “ _I missed you so much.”_

Katsuki reaches out and touches Vitya’s check. “Never scare me like that again.”

“Never.”

“ _God_ , both of you are gross.” There’s Yura, interrupting the peaceful moment. He kicks them for good mesure.

Vitya pushes Yura’s foot away and looks up. There’s mirth dancing in his eyes. “I’ll give you a kiss too, Yura.”

Yura recoils with so much force that Yuuri wonders if he’s snapped his neck. “Stay _away_ from me, fuckos! Stay away from my younger self too. He’s too innocent to be exposed to you two for longer than he has to be.”

The three of them dissolve into playful bantering. Calm, relaxed. The worries of the last few months melts away. 

It feels normal.

Maybe at one point Yuuri would be jealous. It was obvious to anyone that the two loved each other. Yuuri has been craving a love that strong since he was a child.

But with Viktor’s arm around his waist and their bodies pulled together, he can’t bring himself to care.

He already has what he needs right here.

 

* * *

 

There’s something about empty ice rinks that was breathing taking. The Rostelecom Cup Rink was no different.

The competition was over. Yuuri had done better than expected (and apparently better than he did in the future), but still lost to Yurio by a few points. The cleaning crew had already come through and the rest of the skaters had departed for home.

They had the entire rink to themselves.

“If skating was what brought you here, maybe it’ll be what sends you home.” Viktor tells the three from the future.

“Together this time.” Katsuki says and the others nod in agreement.

“Together.”

The three of them take to the ice. At first, nothing happened. The three of them skate old routines (Katsuki and Vitya even tried a _breathtaking_ pair skate), cool tricks and other skating skills they had picked up from years of experience on the ice.

It wasn’t until Katsuki skated up to the side, smiled at Viktor, Yuuri and Yurio and invited them to the ice (“You’re a part of this just as much as we are.”) that something finally happened.  

They skate and skate and _skate._ It wasn’t anything fancy—they didn’t need to after all—but it was full of emotion. Yuuri was having _fun_.

He doesn’t even notice the white light that starts to take form under the ice.

“Whoa!” Viktor skates up to his double and stares. Yuuri’s eyes widen and he blinks for a second because no, that couldn’t be right. It almost looked like Vitya was—

_Fading._

All of them were fading into the ice.

The futures seemed to take notice too.

“ _Finally_ ,” Yura grumbles, but grins anyways.

Katsuki touches his skin and smiles when his fingers go through, almost as if he were a ghost. He looks straight into Yuuri’s eyes. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Yuuri smiles. They’ve been together for the last few months. It was going to be weird not having him around. “I guess so.”

“Век живи́ -- век учи́сь,” Katsuki says. “ _Live and learn._ You’ll never know what you miss if you stay in your shell the rest of your life.  Trust yourself, trust others and you’ll go far.”

Viktor takes his fingers and Yuuri smiles, leaning to the touch.

Katsuki takes a big breath, smiles and suddenly he’s _gone._ The other two were no where to be found either. The rink was eerily silent.

That feeling of wrongness that had been sitting in the bottom of his gut for the last few months suddenly felt right.

Viktor kisses him on the forehead and Yuuri sighs. “I’m going to miss them.”

Yurio snorts and breaks the moment. “I’m not. Vitya was a pain in my ass. Yura kept one-upping me. It _sucked_.”

They lapse into content silence.

“You know,” Viktor laughs before his voice quiets down. He’s staring at the empty ice, seemingly lost in thought. Yuuri rests his head on Viktor’s shoulder and closes his eyes. “I live for surprises, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to top that experience.”

Yuuri laughs and rolls his eyes. Behind him, Yurio snorts.

 _Live and learn,_ Katsuki’s voice echoes in his head.

There are very few places where times seems to bend. Liminal spaces, is what most people know them as. For Yuuri, Empty ice rinks will always be one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> done! ( ´﹀` )   
> the ending is horrible but h o l y s h i t i do not care anyone because this story is done!! hell yeah another time travel story that's complete. this story was also supposed to have chris & phichit find out during the cup of china and yuuri's family was supposed to meet older yuuri but i am a lazy fuck and decided not to write either   
> also yuuri squared (yuuri^2) will always be so funny to me


End file.
